


Redux

by Artistic_Hermit



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crossover, Edward Elric Keeps Alchemy, Edward Elric Swears, Edward and Alphonse are confused and worried, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Hetalia characters come in later, Hohenheim is awkward, Hohenheim tries to be a good dad, Memory Alteration, Parental Roy Mustang, Post-Promised Day, Protective Siblings, Restored Alphonse Elric, Xing (Original Character), brothers being brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23908651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artistic_Hermit/pseuds/Artistic_Hermit
Summary: "Brother... what did you give up?""...I don't know."In the aftermath of the Promised Day, Edward and Alphonse struggle to find out what the Truth took from them as a toll.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric & Van Hohenheim, Edward Elric & Roy Mustang, Edward Elric & Team Mustang, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 106





	1. Redux

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FF.net.

A long time ago, in ages long past, an ancient kingdom grew from the shifting sands of the Eastern Desert. No one knows how it came to be, or where it's inhabitants had even come from, but with eyes and hair like spun gold, they could have been easily mistaken for Children of the Sun God. To some, the Kingdom of Xerxes was regarded as a place of legend, a holy kingdom to some.

The Desert is a harsh place, there is no doubt about it. Venture in unprepared, and you risk the chances of dying from either heatstroke or dehydration. Even prepared, to cross such and unforgiving place is an arduous task that only the brave would undertake. Xerxes, to be able to withstand such unloveable conditions and become a flourishing Kingdom, was a testament to their resilience.

In another world, there would have been a young man known only as Slave 23 who served a prominent Alchemist in the King's court. He would have had his blood taken for an experiment, from which a being known as the Dwarf in the Flask would be born. A Homunculus, an artificial creature that God did not have a hand in creating.

In another world, the Dwarf would have tricked the foolish king who feared death. It would have destroyed the Kingdom of Xerxes in a single night with the creation of two Philosopher Stones, one for it, and the other for its blood brother.

This is not that world.

Slave 23 never exists to become Van Hohenheim, the Philosopher's Stone in the form of a man.

There is however, a man who always stands beside the King in the court. No matter how many years pass, no matter how many ages past, he is always there, unchanging. Forever trapped in a body that does not betray his true nature to any prying eyes.

Xerxes is not just the name of a country or a kingdom. It is also the name of the man who isn't a man, the combined essences of what makes a country a country, the representation of all of the citizens of Xerxes' hopes, dreams, feelings, and pain.

In this life, he isn't a slave to a master.

(But he is, and always will be a slave to the whims of the people who are the reason for his existence. They all are.)

In this life, he still longs for companions.

(They all look at him and either treat him like a God or boss him around like he's a pushover. He's not a God, nor is he a carpet to be walked over. He just wants someone to treat him like he's a real person.)

In this life, he still desires a family.

(He knows it'll never happen. What human could ever love him? He's going to be all alone for the rest of his lonely existence in the desert.)

The King's Alchemist asks to take some of his blood to use in an experiment, after several failures with other samples of blood.

He agrees. What's the worst that could happen?

(Years later, he damns Murphy and his law.)

(Damn Murphy)

(His people are dead... And it's his fault.)

0o0

_**You know how this story ends. With a foolish king who feared death too much, and man's creation that grew to desire more. All that remains of the once flourishing Kingdom of Xerxes are crumbling ruins of sun-bleached buildings that have long since been emptied of their antiques, and mountains of corpses whose bones have been swallowed by the sands of the Eastern Desert.** _

_**What was that saying? The higher you go, the harder you fall? Perhaps that could be said of the foolish king who greedily sought after immortality and got close enough to it, only to have the tables turned on him, becoming an ingredient to the immortality of another.** _

_**In a way, it is rather fitting punishment for a fool. He'll live forever now, suffering alongside the people he intended to power his own life.** _

_**When will humans learn?** _

_**Humans aren't the only prideful creatures, oh no. The Homunculus are a fine example of that, but they are hardly the only ones.** _

_**Definitely not.** _

0o0

In his life, Edward Elric had performed Human Transmutation a total of three times, three more than anyone in their right mind would have done.

The first time Edward performed Human Transmutation, he hadn't understood the true ramifications of his actions. He had gone in with his brother, wide eyed and hopeful at the thought of seeing their mother again. He hadn't anticipated the pain that would have come following his foolish actions. He hadn't thought it would go so horribly wrong. When those dark hands had reached out of the circle, when the eye of Truth had snapped open and revealed itself in all its terrifying glory, all Edward felt was fear and pain as he struggled against the hands all the while his brother's screams echoed in his ears.

The second time was more of a necessity than anything else. How else was he supposed to get out of Gluttony's stomach? He hardly wanted to waste away in there and die of starvation. When those black hands reached out of the circle, pulling at him piece by piece, Edward just closed his eyes and resigned himself to the pull of the Gate. It was only consolation that some good had come out of it, other than getting out of Gluttony's stomach. After all, he had found Alphonse's body. At the point, he had long since resigned himself to the idea that his and Alphonse's body were lost forever, and they'd have to make new ones through some other means. So when he saw his little brother's body, albeit emaciated and malnourished, he felt hope for the first time since he discovered Philosopher Stones were made out of human souls.

The third time he opened the Gate, which was happening in present time, he grinned as he found his answer for the Truth and let himself disappear into the Gate once more for the last time. Not even the uncomfortable sensation of being pulled to the Gate, or even the prospect that he was about to lose something that was important to him was enough to dampen his spirits.

After all, nothing in the world was more important than his little brother.

_("This is my Gate of Truth. Which means I can to whatever I want with it. Correct?")_

If it meant Alphonse would get his body back, he'd sacrifice his Alchemy twice over.

_**("Is that your final answer? Think carefully now!)** _

_("Who needs Alchemy? I'll still have my friends!")_

If you asked Edward what he thought of if someone mentioned the Truth (assuming he'd answer and not punch you for bringing up something so traumatic), he might have said that all he sees is the Truth's mocking grin as it took his leg as punishment for his arrogance.

Now though, all that mockery was gone from the Truth's grin and if anything, it seemed genuinely pleased that finally, finally, someone had understood and found the true answer to everything.

_**"You've done it! That's the right answer!"** _

Edward grinned, almost dizzy with happiness as he began to turn around and give up his Alchemy for good. Or at least he was, until the Truth's next words caught as off guard as a brick to the head in which case his smile slid off his face like water.

_**"But, I won't take your Alchemy."** _

"W-what?' Edward stammered, involuntarily taking a step back as though the Truth's words were an actual physical force that pushed him backwards. With the weight of those words, they might as well have been a physical blow.

Why? Was his Alchemy not good enough as a toll for Alphonse's body and soul? His mind raced with all the other possible tolls he could give up, anything at all.

_(Take my arm...! My leg...! Or even my heart...! Anything! You can have it! Just give him back! He's all I have left!)_

"Y-you bastard! You said I-!"

 _ **"Oh, no, no."**_ The Truth had no qualms with interrupting the enraged Alchemist who looked like he would have liked to throw his Gate at the Truth quite literally. It didn't seemed phased by Edward's angry words, if anything it seemed quite amused.

_**"That's not what I meant at all. I never said you won't be getting your brother back. Your toll, was always meant to be quite different. After all, the ramifications would be quite severe for everyone."** _

"What are you talking about?!" Edward finally snapped impatiently, sick and utterly tired from the day's events while all he wanted to do was bring his brother back home.

The Truth seemed to pause for a moment, before it once again grinned, almost maliciously but not quite yet there as it spoke, the Gate opening up behind Edward. _**"That would be telling, Edward Elric. You'll know what your toll is soon enough. Yours, and your brother's."**_

For a moment, time seemed to slow down as the blood drained from his face. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, the sudden horror bursting forth as a whirlwind of thoughts, far more ferocious than it had been only minutes prior, roared to life because 'What was the Truth extracting as a toll?' and 'Not Al, please not Al!'. Then, time resumed its normal pace and the Gate's black tendrils yanked him back as the young man yelled angrily.

"Truth, you bastard! What did you do?!" Edward howled as Gate slammed shut, the last thing he saw of the Truth was that all to familiar grin as the it raised a hand as if to say to goodbye.

Then, to the silent void, the Truth gave its answer to the question that Edward would never hear.

_**"I've only given back that which I took. The source of your original arrogance."** _

0o0

He must have passed out when he passed through the Gate, because the next thing he knows is that he's lying on the rubble covered ground where he had previously beaten Father into the ground, a particularly sharp rock is digging into his back, and Hohenheim is leaning over him with a concerned expression on his face.

It's really more instinct than actual anger when Edward swings his fist up to punch his father in the face, sending the older man tumbling back with a pained yelp even though there was far less strength in it than when he punched him in Kanama. He could have snorted. They just fought a creature that had stolen the powers of God and that is what took Hohenheim down? A punch? Wimp.

Ignoring the near silent voice in his head that was trying to reason with him (oddly enough, it sounded like Alphonse), Edward sat up with a wince. He had not noticed it earlier, but he was in quite a rough shape and his wounds were really beginning to sting, especially on his arms. The adrenaline from the battle must have worn off a while ago, leaving him to feel the full brunt of his injuries.

Arms?

Vaguely, Edward thought he heard someone talking to him, but he just was unable to hear what they were saying as he frantically looked around for his brother, the Truth's words coming back to him and hitting him like freight train. Where was he? Where was Alphonse?

There! Next to his (former) teacher, Blond hair that was identical to his own peeked out from under a blanket and Edward could see a pale, thin arm. It was definitely Alphonse. There was no one else in the world, save for him and Hohenheim, who had that particular shade of blond. That, and who else would look so severely malnourished?

(He still feels guilty that he hadn't found Alphonse sooner)

"Alphonse!" The panic dispersed, the weight of his worries lightening significantly. No seemed to be in a panic, no one was screaming bloody murder, so that had to be a good sign, right? Edward hurriedly got up, ignoring all of his aches and pains, and he barely makes it two steps before his left leg gives out on him and sends him sprawling. Fortunate that his automail decided to give out now, and not in the middle of battle. The only reason why he does not add a broken nose to his list of injuries is because Hohenheim (who has recovered being punched) manages to catch him before he hits the ground.

"Edward, don't push yourself." Hohenheim said softly, a steady hand gripping his arm.

He would have snapped at his father, but the sight of a flesh and blood leg replacing cold, hard, metal was enough to nearly send him reeling, all the words dying in his throat. He had been so caught up in his worry for his brother that he hadn't realised his leg was back as though it had never been gone. For a moment, the desire to marvel at what he had regained was strong, before he quickly smothered it, his concern for Alphonse overpowering everything else as he stumbled over to his brother who was beginning to stir.

He grudgingly let his father support him as he made his way over to his little brother, deciding that if it meant getting to Alphonse sooner, he'd tolerate Hohenheim for a few moments.

"Al! Alphonse!" The moment he was close enough, Edward scrambled to his brother's side, careful to to trip and fall on his currently very fragile brother. It was like Alphonse was made of glass in comparison to the suit of armor that was his body for the last five or so years. If he fell on his brother, it was very likely that he'd break something.

"B...brother?" Eyes fluttered to reveal gold irises (gold! Not the bright red soul fire he had seen in the empty armour's eyes for so long), the same ones he had seen when he had been escaping from Gluttony's faulty portal. Edward quickly scanned his brother for injuries. Nothing. Nothing to suggest what the toll the Truth extracted from them even was. Both relief and fear bloomed in him.

Alphonse wasn't missing any limbs, that was good. There was the lingering issue, however, if what the Truth took was something unseen. What if the toll was something like Teacher's? What if...?

He was interrupted from inner thoughts when he felt a bony hand grasp his own hand, clutching him almost desperately.

Their eyes met, the worry and fear Edward felt reflected in Alphonse's own eyes as he whispered, "Brother... what did you give up?!"

Almost instantly, he felt eyes on him, drilling holes into him. What did he give up?

For the first time in a very, very long time, Edward was completely at a loss. Squeezing his brother's hand for comfort, he dipped his hand and told Alphonse the only thing he knew.

"I don't know."

0o0

Later, much later, Edward found himself in a hospital bed beside Alphonse's, bandages wrapped around his arm and torso. Alphonse had curled up on the hospital bed, fast asleep for the first time in years, leaving Edward to his own thoughts. After the events of the Promised Day, the hospital was chock full of injured military personnel, as well as a few civilians who had been caught in the voices were loud, and the footsteps walking up and down the corridor outside the door was keeping Edward wide awake. How Alphonse managed to sleep through the racket was beyond him.

Unable to take it anymore, he got up from the hospital bed, ignoring the aches and pains that protested at each movement he made. There was a dull ache that never went in his chest that made him wince, but he figured it'd leave him alone eventually. Grabbing the crutches he had been provided, he slowly hobbled his way through the hospital corridors, no one taking notice of him, and he eventually found his way to the roof of the hospital.

There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and yet the stars were missing from the night sky. Yet another difference from Resembool, that separated it from being home. The light pollution really killed the stars.

He closed his eyes, feeling the wind ruffle his hair. It was peaceful now, wasn't it? The Homunculi were gone, he and Alphonse had gotten their bodies back... so why wouldn't that horrid feeling in the pit of his gut disappear?

He looked down at his hands, his flesh hands, and wondered if he had imagined the whole thing with Truth up. It wasn't likely, since the mystery of what he sacrificed was still up for debate, but why else would it feel like nothing was missing? In fact, he felt much more... whole, than he had ever felt before. After the failed transmutation, he had gone around with a deep sense of emptiness, as if something was missing, until it faded to a dull twinge at the back of his mind. He had barely noticed it, but when he realised that the empty feeling had vanished...

He clapped his hands together, his mouth set into a thin line as he formed a transmutation circle in his mind and set his palms flat against the tiled floor.

The crackle of Alchemic energy and sparks of blue told him everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a loose rewrite of an existing story on FF.net that I though I might as well post here because why not? I also kind of need help to decide which Hetalia characters come in later.
> 
> Please give me ideas on that.
> 
> I'm not very good at ao3 formatting... please forgive me. It's better over at FF.net.


	2. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward struggles to find out what the toll the Truth took, Alphonse worries about his brother, Hohenheim is still around and concerned, Mustang is still blind, and Central City begins to rebuild.

He stumbled across the desert plains, the grains of sand in the wind sharp against the uncovered skin of his face.

A cacophony of voices screamed and cried in his ears, their wails reaching a crescendo that that made him want to fall to his knees and cry at the unfairness of it all.

All of them, everything he had, all of it gone in just a single night. All because of... _him_.

He fled his home, or, what was once his home, picking a random direction and setting off into the harsh desert, unable to face the ruin of his Kingdom, the citizens who look up at him with wide, unseeing, glassy eyes. Accusing eyes that seemed to bore deep into his soul.

He didn't know where he was going, just that he needed to go.

"Listen to me," He begged. "Talk to me... everything's going to be okay..."

He wondered if everyone else would know of the tragedy that befell Xerxes, if they would scoff and condemn him for being such a fool. A foolish fool.

For being tricked.

Who would help Xerxes, no longer a Nation, not even a man, but a Philosopher's Stone?

A monster?

A golden city buried in the sands, soon to be forgotten within the endless whirlwind of time.

(Run far, far away. If you run far and fast enough, maybe you'll be able to escape your pains. But the past will come back to haunt you. It always does.)

( Always.)

0o0

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with either of you, other than the surface injuries which you have been treated for already." The doctor declared, looking over all medical reports and X-rays he had of the Elrics. Although Edward did not remember the old doctor's name, he did recognise him. He was a rather old man, with wispy grey hair atop his balding head and wrinkles lining his face. He also wore large circular glasses. Edward recalled this doctor being around whenever he had to be hospitalised after several incidents of criminal chasing gone horribly wrong. At this point, the doctor was probably unsurprised to see Edward. If he, however, was surprised to not see a hulking suit of armour trailing after his most frequent patient like a puppy, he did not show it.

"Nothing missing?" Alphonse piped up hopefully from beside Edward, the hospital clothes hanging loosely off his bony frame.

"Unless you're referring to your weight, or lack of thereof in your case, no there is not. Your brother seems to be missing his appendix, but that was removed several years ago according to the file. I think I'd be more worried if you did regrow one." The doctor said flatly.

"Lay off." Edward snapped irritably, arms crossed over his chest as he sat next to his brother.

"Brother, be nice!" Alphonse chided, before turning back to the doctor. "So, you're saying that there's absolutely nothing wrong with my brother?"

"I don't know why you expect any differently," The doctor said rather tiredly, taking off his glasses to clean it with the end of his shirt. "There's maybe a few bruised ribs at inside, but even those are beginning to fade; remarkably fast at that. Now, your only problem is that you're so underweight a gust of wind could knock you over. Other than that, I'd say the two of you are healthy enough to not be rushed to the emergency room. Now get out. I have other patients to see."

After being kicked out of the doctor's office, Edward crossed out the possibility of Truth taking either of his and Alphonse's organs before tucking his notebook under his right arm. His left arm was occupied with the crutch that was holding him upright. "Well, I guess we can safely say that we won't be coughing up blood like Teacher soon."

Edward paused, not hearing Alphonse make any acknowledgement to his statement. He turned his head, eyes widening as he saw the expression on his little brother's face.

Alphonse's head dipped down slightly towards the ground, eyes shadowed by his too long hair, so Edward initially had trouble making out the face he was making, but when he did he was shocked by the grimness he saw.

"Al? What's wrong?"

"it's wrong, but..." Alphonse trailed off.

"But?" Edward prompted slowly, concerned and at the same time bewildered by what his little brother was saying.

Alphonse lifted his head, looking Edward square in the eyes. "I almost want something to have been missing. At least then, we'd know how to move forward from there. Not knowing what the Gate took... it's scary. What if it's something slow that's going to kill us? What if you..."

He didn't finish his sentence, letting his unspoken words hang in the air, lingering.

Edward stared, shocked by what his brother was saying, before a sort of calm fell over him as he reached out to ruffle Alphonse hair.

"Your hair's gotten long," He remarked idly, watching as Alphonse mouth fell open in shock at his blatant disregard of everything he just said.

"Ed! I'm being serious! How can you not care if you-!"

"C'mon, Al," Shifting his notebook into his right arm, he gently grabbed Alphonse's arm with his free hand and tugged him into their hospital room. "You need a haircut."

"Ed!"

"Please, Al?" Alphonse paused, seemingly hearing the underlying plea under Edward's words before he grudgingly obliged and sat himself down carefully on one of the room's chairs while Edward dragged over a small dustbin. A pair of scissors was transmuted from an unused chair, thinning the metal but not destroying the furniture.

With a snip, the long locks that tickled Alphonse's back fell away into the dustbin. For a moment, all was silent save for the metallic snip of the scissors and the rustle of falling hair. Then, Edward spoke.

"See? We're already moving forward." His words genuinely caught Alphonse off guard, the younger male turning his head to look up at Edward who smiled slightly as he continued on. "You're getting your old hairstyle back now, and soon you're going to recover completely. Then, we're going to go back to Resembool, where Winry is going to make you an apple pie. That'll be one item crossed off your list, right?"

"Ed..." Alphonse stared at him.

"We'll move forward as always, Al." Edward said, carrying on with giving Alphonse an impromptu haircut. "Remember what we learnt at Yock Island? The world will keep moving, and so will we. As for the Truth's toll... whatever it is, we'll keep looking and we'll find out eventually. There's only so much we can lose. But for now, you can enjoy having your body back. Let me do the work. It's my Alchemy that the Truth didn't accept as a toll."

"Brother..." Alphonse's silence continued for a few more moments before he relented, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face as he laughed. "You dummy. I'm not going to let you run off by yourself and do all the work. Who's going to make you drink your milk if I'm not there?"

"Al, you are aware that I'm the one who's cutting your hair, right?"

0o0

Blindness. A single word with more than one meaning. It meant ignorance, and, it also meant the loss of visual perception. If there was something to be said about blindness, the simplest opinion was that Mustang hated it. Amestris was blind to the Homunculi's plans, and it was only by sheer luck that their plans were uncovered in time to be thwarted. Amestris' blindness led to the death of Maes Hughes, Mustang could say, if he was feeling particularly bitter. Could his own ignorance have contributed to the tragic ending of Hughes? Although the days were few and far between when he thought this, it was a thought that lingered before he brutally quashed it. No, the only ones at fault were the Homunculi, and those who knew of the plans and did nothing.

Before the Promised Day, Mustang was only ever familiar with one aspect of blindness. True, he had seen his fair share of people who had either lost or damaged their eyesight in battle while he served in Ishval, but he had always thought that would be the furthest he'd know of blindness.

Here he sat now however, a full day after the Promised Day, staring at the nothingness where his hands should be, fingers curled around the soft sheets of the hospital bed. The palms of his hands twinged in pain, from where the late Fuhrer Bradley had stabbed through his hands with his swords. No lasting damage, according to the doctors. He'd be able to use his hands without issue in the future.

That was good and all, but what happened next...

He hated it.

A long time ago, when he had first stormed into the Rockbell house in Resembool in a fury, when he had first met the broken shell that was an eleven year old Edward Elric, fresh out of losing an arm and leg, as well as his younger brother's body, he remembered equating Edward's broken demeanour to the trauma of losing limbs. He had seen older, far more experienced men and women lose limbs and come away from it a changed person, the trauma too great to bear. Why would a child be any different from those adults?

While it was a wonder that Edward had come away from it mostly intact (mentally. He'd be blatantly lying if he said physically), Mustang had to wonder...

Edward never spoke of his Human Transmutation. He'd rarely bring it up, even in passing, much less talk about the incident in detail. However, Mustang would bet his career that his youngest subordinate had seen it. That... horrifying, grinning, featureless, thing that took his eyesight.

Edward must have seen it. Alphonse must have seen it. Their teacher, and even their father...

How could they all sleep at night? Every time Mustang tried to sleep, that horrifying, grinning face made itself known, right alongside the horrors of Ishval.

"Colonel?" Mustang snapped out of his darker thoughts, focusing on the familiar, calming voice of his most trusted. The rustle of fabric told him that she had saluted him, even though it was completely unnecessary since he couldn't see it.

"Lieutenant," He greeted her, his unseeing eyes focusing on where he assumed Hawkeye would be. "At ease. Have your injuries been treated?"

"Yes, sir." There was a pause. Mustang could almost feel her eyes looking over him. "... Are you alright, sir?"

"As alright as I can be, I suppose." He said with a sigh. "It'll be a bit harder to climb the ranks like this, but I'll still eventually become Fuhrer."

"Sir..." Mustang felt her hand against his. "It'll be alright. Even if you can't see, I'll be your eyes."

It seemed that Hawkeye could always read him so well.

"... Thank you, Lieutenant."

0o0

Edward lay on the bed, golden hair pooling around his head as he slept away the hours peacefully. A stark contrast to Alphonse, who was still very much awake despite it already being ten in the evening. For one horrifying moment, he wondered if the Truth had taken away his ability to sleep, before he relaxed. If that were the case, he would have most certainly noticed it the previous night. The most logical assumption for his sleeplessness would be his own, active thoughts that were still wrought with worry, despite his big brother's words to him earlier that day.

He sighed, leaning back into the pillow. Despite Edward's best attempts to comfort him, the worry ate away at him, a gnawing sense that never really went away even with Edward's words beating his worries over the head with a metaphorical broom.

Alphonse snorted at the absurd mental image. If worries were tangible things, he really could see Edward chasing his worries away with a broom or even one of his tacky, transmuted weapons.

It was a sad truth, but Edward honestly had no sense of style, despite his protests saying otherwise.

The creak of the door caught Alphonse's attention, breaking him out his thoughts.

"Oh! Dad!" He exclaimed, sitting up, before wincing at the volume of his voice, suddenly remembering his brother sleeping just a bed over, as well as Edward's disdain for their father. Not particularly willing to deal with trying to hold his brother back, he continued in a softer voice, "Where were you? Are you okay?"

Hohenheim smiled kindly. "Yes, Alphonse. I am alright. As for where I was, I was talking to the souls in the Philosopher's Stone. It would seem that I've got about four hundred and forty thousand or so people to talk to."

"Huh?" Alphonse scrunched his brows in confusion as Hohenheim entered the room and closed the door behind him quietly. "Oh! You mean, the souls from the Homunculus? But weren't they...?"

"Yes, that's what I thought too." Hohenheim said wearily, finding a chair to sit down on next to Alphonse's bed. "When those souls were released from him, I thought they'd be freed. Be able to pass on. But... even I don't understand it, but they were absorbed into my stone. Now, all I can do is listen to everyone so they can calm down."

"I see..." Alphonse said, trailing off before he perked up. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

For a moment, Hohenheim seemed taken aback by his youngest son's offer, eyes widening slightly in surprise before he gave his son a soft smile. Reaching out, he hesitated for a moment before he gave Alphonse a pat on the shoulder. "You're a good kid, son. But it's alright. I can handle this myself. You should worry about yourself more."

There was a pause, before he awkwardly asked, "Did you cut your hair?"

"Brother cut it for me. Believe it or not, he can do it decently enough." Alphonse laughed softly, reaching up to touch his now shorter bangs of hair. "Hard to see Ed doing something like cutting hair, right?"

Edward had actually done a surprisingly good job, despite his teasing to do a poor job for that milk comment he had made. Alphonse supposed it was from the years he had spent trimming his own hair because he just could not be bothered to go and properly get his hair cut. Something about 'not having enough time to waste, and research being far more important since that bastard colonel might call them at any minute for another mission'.

"I see..."

There was an even longer moment of silence between them that seemed to drag out a little bit too long, before Alphonse awkwardly ended the silence with a question. "Do you want to... talk to Ed?"

"I doubt he'd want to talk to me," The Xerxsian chuckled, although Alphonse could almost hear the underlying sadness in his laughter. Grief, about his relationships with his sons. "Not unless it's to yell and punch me. I only came here to check on the two of you since it's the least I can do for you two, although I suppose I was lucky enough to be able to talk to you."

"Brother doesn't hate you," Alphonse said in a small voice, twisting the fabric of the blanket between his fingers idly. "He just doesn't want to admit it. But I think he'll let it go in the future, since he knows you left for a good a reason."

"Well, I guess I have a long wait ahead of me," Hohenheim said as he began to stand up. "If your brother is anything like me when I was his age, he's not going to completely forgive me for a very long time."

Just then, right after Hohenheim stood up, the chair he had been sitting on fell over with a crash, the chair leg broken. Caught off guard, he stumbled for a moment, but managed to regain his balance without falling to the ground.

"That was dangerous!" The older man exclaimed, a hand over his heart as he recovered from his shock. "Someone could have gotten hurt from that."

"Oh!" Alphonse sheepishly covered his face in embarrassment, mortified that he and Edward had actually forgotten to transmute the scissors from earlier back into the chair. If it had been anyone else or just someone with poor luck (like Edward), they might have gotten seriously injured depending on how they hit the ground. "Sorry, dad. I forgot brother transmuted a pair of scissors from that chair. We must have forgotten to put it back."

Hohenheim chuckled and waved it off. "It's alright. It does remind me of that time when you boys were younger transmuted a duck figurine out of the floorboards and forgot to put it back. Some poor person tripped over that hole and lost a front tooth if I remember correctly. Get well soon Alphonse, you and Edward. I'll see you soon."

With a wave, the older man vacated the room, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving Alphonse by himself, still smiling to himself at the story.

"... That doesn't sound right."

Yelping in surprise, Alphonse's head snapped to the side to see his brother rolling over on his bed to face him, his gold eyes glinting in the dull light in a way that almost reminded him of the reflectiveness of cats' eyes.

"Brother!" Alphonse exclaimed. "How long were you awake for?"

"Since the old man nearly became a victim to unsteady chairs. I probably should fix that later." Edward said, ending his sentence with a yawn as he sat up, wincing as he accidentally put pressure on his bruised ribs. "What did the bastard want?"

"Ed, that's mean. You shouldn't call him that," Alphonse chided, but let it go since there was hardly any heat behind his brother's words. Although, whether or not it was from just waking up or not was still up for debate. "And dad just wanted to check on us."

Edward snorted, but chose not to argue otherwise, a rarity when it came to the topic of their father. Alphonse could still remember that whenever their father was brought up, it'd usually very quickly degrade into a shouting match between the two of them, resulting in a few days of not talking to each at its very worse. Eventually, both of them just learnt to never mention their father, lest they start fighting again. The fact that Edward did not fly off the handle this time said quite a lot.

Alphonse was proud of his big brother, he really was.

Then, he remembered what his brother had said just after their father had left the room.

"Wait, Ed," He began, "I almost forgot, but what did you mean by that?"

"By what?" Edward grunted, looking at his brother as he rubbed his tired eyes.

"You said, 'that doesn't sound right' when dad left just now. What did you mean by that?" Alphonse repeated Edward's words back to him verbatim, watching as his brother wrinkled his nose in thought.

"It doesn't sound right." Edward insisted, yawning once more before he continued. "He shouldn't have seen us do Alchemy when we were kids. Remember? We learnt from his books because he wasn't there. We began studying after he left, and he didn't bother showing his face until recently. There is no way he'd remember something like that."

"Maybe you're just remembering it wrong," Alphonse suggested, ignoring the slight bitterness in his brother's voice as he pondered his brother's words, trying to remember if their dad had thought them a bit of Alchemy and had stayed long enough to see their first transmutation. "We were pretty young at the time. Maybe dad did teach us a little before he left. Then we just picked up the rest from his books."

"Ah, whatever." Edward groaned before slumping back onto the bed with a soft thud. "I'm too tired to think about this. I'm going back to sleep. Good night Al."

With that, Edward passed out once again, leaving Alphonse by himself once again.

The youngest Elric shook his head in exasperation as he sank back onto the pillow, his eyes on the ceiling as he tried to fall asleep, his thought wandering to his most recent conversation with his brother as he tried to think back. His memories were quite foggy from when he was a child, so he didn't expect to remember his first transmutation.

Huh.

One of them must have mixed their memories up, Alphonse thought to himself as he finally drifted off to sleep.

0o0

In the aftermath of the Promised Day, there was much to be done. Buildings were damaged, civilians and soldiers injured, some more severely than others, and much of Central Command needed to be replaced, with almost all of the Generals either dead, MIA, or simply just arrested as the main conspirators of the Promised Day. After all, what else could they tell their citizens? An immortal creature made from Alchemy spent the last four hundred years planning to sacrifice the country's population of fifty million people in order to gain enough power to devour God.

Yes, that would go over very well indeed, assuming the citizens wouldn't think that they were complete and utter lunatics and decided that another Vive la révolution was in order..

Therefore, they stuck to the cover story with the Generals, because that was actually far more believable than the actual truth.

As the sun began to rise, a beautiful sunrise that Amestris would never have seen again if it were not for everyone who had a part to play in the promised day. Hammers rising and falling, the chatter of people rebuilding their homes, the occasional flash of alchemic sparks from a helpful Alchemist, it would seem that everything would be alright.

The world kept turning.

The ache in Edward and Alphonse's chests lightened as time marched onwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is already up on FF.net. Next one will be out on Sunday before reverting to once a week updates. Hopefully.


	3. Rinse and Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward and Mustang get around to talking about stuff, Edward and Alphonse begin to find unexplainable injuries on them, the injuries of which they do not recall getting, and Hohenheim really wants to be a better dad.

He is alive. He is alive, and he will keep on living. He isn't going to die. That should be a good thing, right? People want to live, and he thinks he did too. Life is a beautiful thing, is it not? Full of wonders to see, things to experience, and all sorts of things. So many people to meet, so many things that the world has to offer to him. He's alive, and that is all that matters.

Right?

Is it strange, though, that he wished he never survived?

He collapsed in the desert, so weak and exhausted, his strength sapped by both the sun bearing down on him and the shock of having his very essence stolen and then returned in an alternate form, one that he wished he had never felt, never touched. Souls are, after all, scared things that should never be touched by anyone or anything other than than the true owner. After all, strip a human down to their very core, and it's the only thing that is truly theirs in the world.

He feels dirty, despicable, and monstrous all at once.

For a long time, his people were but a small presence in his mind, him intrinsically linked to each and every last Xerxsian who stood under his flag. He felt their thoughts, emotions, and he was them. They were him, and he was them.

Now... all he heard were the tortured cries and screams of those souls who were once his people.

Al he felt was _fear fear fear someone please help me! It hurts!_

He wakes up, much later, and he's told that Xingese merchants picked him up and saved him from the desert. He's in Xing, and for a moment, he thinks of the person he met in ages long past, back when he still stood by the King.

All of it is gone now, and so is Xerxes. He is not Xerxes anymore. How can he be Xerxes if there is no Xerxes? He's a dead man walking at this point, a man who by all reason should have perished along with the land he was once one with.

There is nothing left of Xerxes, nothing, but the knowledge that he gained.

With no other purpose, he does the only thing he can.

He shares his knowledge.

(It's the least he can do. Maybe if he shares his knowledge, no one else will have to suffer at the hands of the Homunculus.)

(They won't be tricked like he was.)

0o0

'Oh, Edward?" As Edward slowly made his way down the hospital hallway, he paused when he heard a familiar voice. After several days of being in the hospital, as well a physical therapy for his atrophied limbs, he was slowly learning to stop relying on his crutches. Besides, he hated having to use crutches for long periods of time, so it was really only natural that he'd try and rush through physical therapy. However, he did try to slow down for his brother's sake. Since Alphonse's entire body had atrophied inside of the Gate, his progress was much slower as he tired easily. So, as a sort of encouragement, Edward made sure to always accompany his brother during the sessions.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye?" Edward turned around and spotted the usually stern woman, before lifting a hand in greeting. "Wait, if you're here, doesn't that mean...?"

"Fullmetal, is that you?" Behind the lieutenant, stood Mustang, eyes blank and unseeing as they had been when Edward had last seen him. In one of his hands, he held a cane that looked like it was way past its warranty date, assuming that canes had warranty dates. Most likely, it was a hospital issued one.

"... I knew it." Edward groaned, head in his hands.

Later, once the 'pleasantries' were over and done with, they found themselves in Mustang's hospital room. Apparently, when Hawkeye had spotted Edward, she and the Colonel had just been returning from the hospital's rooftop because it seemed rather unhealthy to do nothing but lie in bed all day.

"So, how are you?" Edward wanted to regret it the moment those words left his throat, seeing the look on Mustang's face.

"Why, Fullmetal, I'd almost think you cared." Mustang said with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest. However, the fact that he was not directly facing Edward and seemed to be looking over the younger male's shoulder mostly ruined the effect he was going for.

"Oh, shut up." Edward retorted, only a tiny bit of heat behind his words. "I don't care about you. Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Earlier in the hallway, Mustang had told him that he wanted to speak to him about something important. However, no matter how hard he tried to come up with ideas, Edward was unable to come up with any particular topics that would be considered 'important' by Mustang. After all, everything 'important' over the past year was over. The Homunculi were gone, the country was not about to be sacrificed for a Philosopher's Stone, and nothing was about to explode. Yet.

"Yes, about that," The smirk left Mustang's face. "I've heard you and your brother have gotten your bodies back, correct?"

"Yes?"

"First of all, allow me to extend my congratulations to you and your brother." Edward was genuinely surprised by the Colonel telling this to his face, and suddenly felt quite embarrassed for some odd reason. It was rare fro the Colonel to actually genuinely congratulate him for anything. Usually, he'd just tease him with... short jokes. It was like every time Mustang saw him, he'd be hit by an irresistible urge to point out Edward's height or lack of thereof. Even if they were in rather concerning situations. Such as that one time where they had, for some inconceivable reason, been on a mission together and nearly fell off a cliff. It was purely luck they hadn't fallen, since Edward's automail arm had gotten caught on some vines, and Mustang's pocket watch had caught on the automail leg. Then, while still upside down, Mustang had still continued to tease him.

The only real bright side to that awful situation was that Mustang had a word quota to follow if he did not want to pass out from the lack of oxygen going to his head.

"Oh, uh, thanks?"

Any and all good will Edward had towards the older man vanished with the return of Mustang's smirk which always seemed to irk Edward no matter what. "After all, it's surprising that you could reach such a _high_ goal."

"Who are you calling so small that he can't even reach the lowest of goals?!" The blond Alchemist seethed, as Mustang chuckled, amusement clear in his expression as Hawkeye only sighed from where she stood, all too familiar with the banter between Edward and Mustang.

"You really haven't changed at all, Fullmetal." Mustang smiled, before he continued on, actually serious now. "Back to business, and contrary to what you must be thinking right now, I do have something important to ask you."

"Yeah? What?" Edward huffed, still throughly miffed about the crack at his height. He had grown taller! During his time in Briggs, Winry had outfitted him with winter automail which were significantly lighter than his usual prosthetics which probably was the reason he shot up during the last few months. The last time he checked, he was even taller than Winry now, something which he was extremely pleased about.

"Now that you and your brother have gotten your bodies back, what will you do now?" Mustang asked, for once managing to focus his unseeing gaze on Edward. Despite the fact that he was still blind and there was no way that Mustang was actually looking at him, it still felt as though his commanding officer's gaze was piercing through his soul. "Will you be quitting the military? After all, you did only join to look for a way to get your bodies back."

"I..." Edward was at a loss for words. What was he going to do now? He had intended on leaving the military behind after he and Alphonse had gotten their bodies back, so why did he not immediately say that he was quitting? Did he not want to quit?

Oh, Teacher was going to kill him for not immediately quitting the military.

"I don't know..." He mumbled, conflicted. On one hand, there were plenty of risks to be had as a State Alchemist. Edward had made plenty of enemies who wanted nothing more than to see him dead after he foiled their plans, resulting in the numerous attempts on his life, some nearly even succeeding if he wanted to be honest with himself. He didn't want Alphonse to have to deal with that, now that Alphonse wasn't as invulnerable as he had been as a suit of armour.

On the other hand... there was still the matter of the toll. Neither he nor Alphonse knew what the Truth took. They might still need the funds for research, should there be an ugly turn to the worse.

What should he do?

(In another world, he'd have quit because, after all, what good was an Alchemist without Alchemy? He knew his toll, and would be troubled no more.)

"Take your time, Edward." Hawkeye said kindly. "Think about what you want to do from here onwards, now that you and your brother have accomplished your goal. Talk to Alphonse."

"I'll... think about it." Edward said slowly as he walked over to the door.

"Fullmetal." Mustang managed to look directly at Edward, hesitating for a moment as though he was unsure of his next words before he carefully spoke. "Whatever it is you choose, I'm glad you were my subordinate. Even if you are a brat sometimes"

Edward's eyes widened a fraction before they returned to their normal size moments later, a soft smile creeping on his face.

"... Thanks, Colonel."

"You're still a shrimp, though."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING-?!"

0o0

It began with an itch. An itch that never seemed to go away as the sensation climbed to his shoulder blades from the middle of his back. In a way, it sort of reminded him of the time he had fallen into a nettle bush as a child and gotten stuck. He had cried a lot back then as Edward ran screaming for their mother to get him out, one of the more painful experiences of their childhood if he did not count Teacher's training. Trisha Elric, bless her soul, had spent the next half an hour carefully untangling him from the bush before she was finally able to extract her youngest son from the nasty plant and carried him home to treat the rashes that sprung up from the stings.

Alphonse thought nothing of it when it first started. He could even remember the exact moment it happened. He had been listening to the radio spew out a report about a serious skirmish at the border that separated Amestris and Creta, the tide of the battle falling out of Amestris' favour because their troops were exhausted from 'the incident that nearly wiped Amestris out', and how planted explosives were doing significant damage. Then, he felt it. A sharp sting in the middle of his back.

Instantly, he had shot up, his hand had flown to his back with a sharp smack, and initially believed he had been bitten by an insect of some kind. He hoped it wasn't a bedbug. Those were nasty critters. He and Edward once had a schoolmate who came to school covered in rashes from bedbug bites, and it did not look pleasant in the slightest. The sensation was sharp, but Alphonse thought that after going nearly half a decade without his body, the pain receptors in his body were very sensitive. It made sense, since everything felt so much more amplified than before he lost his body.

When Alphonse pulled his hand away, he was relieved to see his hand clean of any ex-critters. It was already tiring enough to sit up, and did not want to have to get out of bed unless it was absolutely necessary.

It must have been pulled muscle or something, Alphonse thought to himself as he lay back down, the radio droning on. For another moment, everything was calm. Then, it happened again. Another painful sting. Only, this one did not fade away. It spread, a prickling sensation that felt like he was being stabbed with tiny needles all over his back. And it _hurt_.

Alphonse had no idea what was going on, and after a few moments of frantic movement, he just curled up on the bed and hoped that whatever it was that was happening, it would soon pass.

"Al? AL!" Suddenly, Edward's hands were gripping his shoulders, his voice overlapping the drone of the radio. "What's wrong?! Damn it, Al, talk to me! Breathe!"

"B-brother..." Alphonse whimpered, hands reaching out for his brother as he had always done when he was scared. After their mother had passed away, he had always looked to his brother for comfort. "It hurts...!"

Edward cursed, loudly, most of the words he spat out were of the variety that Alphonse would have scolded him for, but the youngest Elric was hardly in any condition to chide his brother for his foul language.

"Shit! Where's the doctor-?!"

Then, just as quickly as it had started, most of the pain vanished into nothingness, leaving only a dull ache behind. Alphonse gasped, sucking in a breath of oxygen that he had deprived himself of after he had forgotten to breathe, before he burst into a coughing fit when he choked on air.

"Al?!" Edward's hand rubbed comforting circles into his back, a familiar action to Alphonse that the older Elric had repeated multiple times during their childhood whenever he thought his little brother needed comforting. Even as a suit of armour, even though Alphonse couldn't feel it, Edward occasionally gave him a comforting pat on the back. It was a nice gesture, and one that was thoroughly appreciated. "Are you alright?!"

Alphonse coughed, taking a few moments to recover before weakly nodding his head. "Yeah... I think it passed. I'm okay."

No, he was not. What on earth had even happened? It definitely was not a pulled muscle, despite his initial beliefs. A while back, he and Edward had been researching topics surrounding the human biology in an effort to see if they could recreate a human body and attach his soul to it before they scrapped the idea and labeled it as being too risky. During that time, Alphonse had found some medical notes with a whole chapter detailing human muscles and all possible injuries that could occur. After learning what he did, it seemed impossible that the several minutes of pain he had experienced was even remotely related.

"Bullshit," Edward huffed, eyes disbelieving as he instantly saw through Alphonse's act. Alphonse was nit very surprised. Years of trying to read a suit of armour made reading human body language quite easy. "I wouldn't call you 'okay', not after... whatever that was! Where'd it hurt? Let me see."

"My back." Alphonse tried to indicate the area as best as he could as he turned around, wincing as the movement made his back twinge. "Near the shoulders."

Carefully, Edward pulled the thin fabric of the hospital clothing down to see if there was anything wrong. Alphonse had fully expected Edward to declare that there was nothing to see, or even that he had been stung by some nasty insect with equally nasty poison. What he did not expect however, was for Edward to suddenly freeze up, body tensing in a way that Alphonse had only ever seen when his older brother had been so shocked by something.

Alphonse was almost afraid to ask.

"...What?" He heard Edward whisper, horrified.

"What? What is it?" Finally, Alphonse could take his ignorance no more, twisting his head around to see what was wrong. However, there was only so much a head could turn, so he could not see anything.

"Please tell me you violently fell off the bed. How the hell did your back get so messed up?! That was not there earlier!"

"What is it?!"

"Wait here!" Edward rushed off, leaving Alphonse gaping in shock, but the oldest Elric returned a few moments later with a mirror shard that he most likely got from breaking it off a mirror. If Alphonse had not been so confused and concerned, he might have teased his brother about having an additional seven years of bad luck tacked onto their infamous 'Elric luck'.

"This!" Edward exclaimed as he held up the mirror, letting his brother see exactly what he was talking about.

0o0

Edward had sighed with relief, nearly slumping over onto Alphonse hospital bed as soon as he realised that his brother was well. At least, well enough that he was not seriously injured. However, seeing Alphonse writhing in pain... it nearly made Edward's heart stop. The sheer panic he felt at the sight was only slightly below the instance where Alphonse had exchanged his soul for Edward's arm. Then again, nothing could really top watching one's sibling sacrifice themselves for whatever reason.

If Alphonse did not look like he might fall over at the slightest hint of a breeze, Edward honestly might have given him a friendly punch for terrifying him.

Then, when he asked to see Alphonse's back...

He did not know what he was expecting; insect bites? A sudden outbreak of rash? Nothing? All possible answers, although Edward would have much preferred the third option. If there was nothing to see, it did narrow down the options to what possibly ailed his brother.

Then again, not seeing anything also broadened the scope of possible ailments, and Edward honestly did not think that the book he read awhile ago named 'All possible ailments a human could have 101' actually detailed every last one, never mind the fact that it was as thick as his head, cowlick included, and not counting the borderline absurd number of credit pages. And dedications. So many dedications.

Regardless of the sheer number of pages that were not even about medical ailments, Edward could safely say that it and all the medical books he had ever read in his sixteen years of life had never mentioned anything about Alphonse's situation.

On Alphonse's upper back, just barely reaching his shoulder blades, were bruises. Smatterings of dark red, blues, and purples as though someone had been clumsy enough to spill copious amounts of ink onto his brother.

It looked like someone had taken a metal bat to his little brother's back and beat him until he was black and blue, which, given their current circumstances, was impossible. He highly doubted anyone could sneak in with a weapon without anyone noticing, and their hospital room did not have anything that could be used as such. Unless the IV pole was counted, but it most certainly hadn't been removed from it's corner where it had been pushed to after Alphonse got off the IV drip.

Besides, Alphonse would have told him.

Then, Edward ran off to find a mirror, and since they were fairly near the bathroom it was an obvious choice to get the mirror from there.

He just hoped that any bad luck he gained would be canceled out after he fixed it later.

When he returned, he held the mirror up. As expected, Alphonse froze up when he saw his back, who would not, seeing such a violent injury from some unknown source, when something caught Edward's eye.

Like water washing away stains, the deep blues and red seemed to fade away before Edward and Alphonse's bewildered eyes as they watched slack jawed, the slight splotches of yellow that still marred the youngest Elric's skin being the only sign that there was ever an injury.

For a moment, there was silence, silence the seemed to draw itself out for too long before Edward broke it with his mouth shutting itself with a click.

Then...

"WHAT THE F-?!"

Whatever rude obscenities Edward had been about to unleash on an unsuspecting world was drowned out by the sound of the radio cheerfully broadcasting the success of the Amestrian soldiers, and the retreat of the Cretans. Fortunately.

0o0

He probably should have told his sons (or just Alphonse because Edward was not at the stage where he would be willing to discuss things civilly if it was not important business) where he was going, lest they (Edward) think he ran off and abandoned them again. However, he wanted to see Trisha one more time before he'd be able to fully move on.

True, it was a depressing thought to think his sons would so easily think the worst of him, but he honestly did not expect any less. After all, he had not been a very good father to them. Between he and his lovely Trisha, Trisha was easily the better parent of the two of them. She was everything a mother should be. Kind, gentle, understanding, patient, and with such a big heart that Hohenheim could not help but feel pathetic in comparison to her.

She... she was everything to him. He had never truly loved anyone before in his life before her, and he did not think there would be anyone else ever again. It killed him to leave her and his sons, but... it seemed like it killed Trisha too.

Of all the regrets in the world, if there was one he could right, it would be her.

He had come home, ten years later, eager to see his wife and children again, apologise for making her wait, to his children for leaving so suddenly without a word to them, for not writing to them, for any hardships his leave caused.

When he disembarked at Resembool's train station, he expected to return to Trisha, to his two boys, to a home.

He never expected to return to a burnt out, empty shell of what was once a home, ghostly phantoms of memories still dancing around the scorched remains of his home. The swing he had made before he left lay on the ground, on of the ropes snapped and burnt.

He never expected to find out his wife had been dead for over a decade while he had travelled the country to foil the Dwarf's despicable plan. Ten years. Ten years since his angel's departure from this vast earth, and only now was he discovering it.

An illness that swept through Resembool, Pinako, his dear friend, had told him solemnly. No one had realised, until it had been far too late for Trisha.

It hurt, it really did.

If Hohenheim had been in less control of his emotions, he might have broke down in his grief.

Pinako had been nice enough to point him in the direction of his beloved's grave, and he barely had it in him to mumble a 'thank you' as his legs carried him past his old friend to Trisha.

_Trisha Elric_

_1878 - 1904_

The words engraved onto her tombstone seemed like they were mocking him. Both her birth and death date. They only served as a reminder of how he was not, and would never be human. He was a monster.

Then came a second shock. If there had been a third, he might not have survived it.

Edward, his eldest son, stood a distance away with a look of utter shock and fury that actually caught him off guard. That was not what shocked him, however. What shocked him, was how fast his son had grown up.

His only memories of his sons, had been of them as toddlers, small, tiny, absolutely precious children. And here Edward was, standing before him as a teenager.

He had grown up, and Hohenheim had missed it all.

Alphonse had most likely grown up too, if Edward had.

He just could never win, could he?

At least, he managed to save his sons.

"Hello, Trisha..." Hohenheim stood before his wife's grave once again, before he fell to his knees with a soft smile. "I'm home."

He smiled slightly, as he tried to ignore the emotions that bubbled up in his chest as he spoke. "Edward finally called me his father, would you believe it?"

He chuckled, "You were right. They did grow up strong. I left to save them, but in the end, they saved themselves."

Hohenheim stood up, gently laying a hand on the smooth tombstone. "Thank you for everything, Trisha. For loving this sad, old man. For raising the boys. For letting me feel grateful for the life I have. This time, I'll try to be a good father to them."

"Thank you."

(As he turned around to leave... he wondered if he heard Trisha's voice on the wind)

(Was it okay for him to cry now?)

0o0

There was never a dull moment with the Elrics around. It was a saying that had circulated around Eastern Headquarters some years ago, when Edward had first joined the military. Of course, Edward was already bound to draw attention, given his unusual circumstances of being the youngest Alchemist to ever pass the State Alchemist exam, so it would naturally never be dull with him around.

However, what really caused the saying to be circulated around the East was Edward's spitfire personality and tendency to find trouble that quickly gained him notoriety.

Half an hour after Edward left, Mustang suddenly found himself reminded of the latter reason when he heard the door slam open, followed by his youngest subordinate's breathless voice.

"I think... I'll need to hold onto the pocket watch for a while longer. Al and I... We've got a problem."

Yes, Mustang could feel the headache rolling in like a storm.

Never a dull day, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, I need some ideas on which Hetalia characters to bring in. I've thought about it, but I can't decide. Please help me. Also, I might bring in a couple of OCs to represent countries like Xing because Xing is not a real country, and therefore is not in Hetalia.
> 
> Now that that's out of the way, I wanted to say that we just have one more chapter to go through until we get to the other Nations. So it's essentially just preparation stuff until a time skip. And then we get to the Hetalia part of this crossover. I do know that I won't be bringing in Drachma because they are still salty about the Briggs incident a year later.
> 
> I really want to write cute parental Roy, but I don't know how to do that. I'm very sad.
> 
> Also, as per Hetalia head canon from somewhere, whenever there's a bunch of fighting going on, wounds open up when skirmishes/war happens. And since Amestris does a lot of that... Oh ho, ho, ho... At least they have a reason to stay in the military, since they have no idea what's going on.
> 
> Next time on Redux, Edward's still in the military researching with Alphonse, Colonel Mustang gets his eyesight back, and Hohenheim is understandably alarmed when he finds out what's going on with his sons but tries to support them (and doesn't tell them anything. Thanks Hohenheim). Not in this order.
> 
> Thank you.


	4. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward's still in the military researching with Alphonse, Colonel Mustang gets his eyesight back, and Hohenheim is understandably alarmed when he finds out what's going on with his sons but tries to support them (and doesn't tell them anything. Thanks Hohenheim). Not in this order.

A long time ago, he watched families with fascination. He sees their cheerful laughter, warm and loving touches, and the bonds they shared. He sees mothers, fathers, daughters, and sons, spending their days basking in each others' presences. Then he began to wonder; what is it like to have a family? He never had a mother or father, or any brothers or sisters. He knows naught of where his people came from, and he thinks he never will. If he had a 'parent', he never knew them and he supposed they never cared enough to know him. If he had siblings, which he doubted, he was sure he would have already met them.

He's surrounded by people, and yet he is so unbelievably lonely.

Then everything goes to hell, and he is completely and utterly alone.

Now, as he walks the earth with no purpose, he watches families not with fascination, but a deep rooted sense of longing, and the hopeless resignation that he'd never get what he truly desired.

Humans desire immortality, stemming from the fear of death, the fear of what lies after life, the unknown. Perhaps, some part of him can understand why humans want such a cursed existence, but only those with immortality can truly know the pain of such an everlasting existence .

Do they not know that after centuries of living, watching the sun rise and set over and over again, to watch everyone you had ever loved grow old and succumb to the endless turn of time, that the madness eternity offers is worse than the prospect of death?

Humans really were foolish.

He stays in Xing for fifty years, spreading his knowledge before he sets off again, traveling the world to learn more. With all this time, he'd surely have enough to learn everything the world had to offer him. Xing deserved it.

Then, two hundred years after everything was lost, he finally stumbles into the country Amestris with no expectations, and once again does his world flip on its axis and send him staggering.

Oh.

_Oh._

(How could he have forgotten?)

0o0

Soon after Edward had barged into his hospital room to declare his intentions of staying in the military, he and his brother were declared sufficiently healthy enough to not warrant additional stay in the hospital and where promptly discharged to make space for additional people who still needed treatment. Apparently, the Elrics (Edward)'s disdain of hospitals and their eagerness to get out as fast as possible was quite famous around the hospital, considering how much of a regular they were. If Mustang did not know any better (and if he was in a better mood), he might have said that Edward's knack at getting himself into trouble was probably what was keeping the hospitals of their country financially afloat.

However, what Edward told him before he left, no doubt to hole himself up in a library somewhere, disturbed him to his core. Bouts of pain? Injuries appearing with no real source? Scars appearing without any wounds? Mustang would have found these things hard to believe, if not for the fact that right in the middle of Edward's explanation, he suddenly hissed in pain. He might not have been able to see, but from Edward's cursing and Hawkeye's startled gasp, followed by some rustling, it was hardly likely to be good.

Later, Hawkeye would solemnly inform him of what had transpired. While Edward had been talking, a wound hidden by his shirt had suddenly seemed to... appear, marring what skin she could see on his shoulder an ugly red as he hissed in pain and tightly gripped his shoulder. Hawkeye had immediately sprung into action as she hurried over to Edward. Peeling the fabric away from the wound, she had been greeted with the sight of a wound that she had recognised extremely well.

It would have been hard not to recognise it, not when your superior office utilised a skill that could inflict such injuries.

It was a burn. Second degree, if Hawkeye's description was accurate which Mustang knew it was.

But it should have been impossible, Hawkeye had told Mustang. How could Edward even have been burned so suddenly, and without no explanation?If he had indeed been burned, his clothes would have some visible damage at the very least. With the way the wound had appeared, however, the only thing that Hawkeye could come up with was that somehow, the wound seared itself into existence through some unexplainable force that man could not understand.

Mustang's best theory involved some complex form of Alkahestry since from what he had been told by Alphonse several months back he understood that it could used in long range transmutations, but even that seemed rather convoluted and very incorrect because there had been no circle anywhere on Edward's person from what Hawkeye had told him. There had also been no thrum of Alchemical Energy that Mustang could feel, which made his theory all the more unlikely. All Alchemists could feel the hum of energy whenever another Alchemist performed a transmutation nearby so if Edward was being attacked, whoever it was behind all this was doing an unfortunately excellent job of covering their tracks.

Fortunate for them, since Mustang would have roasted them.

He gritted his teeth at the memory of Edward's pained grunt, cursing his blindness preventing him from helping his subordinate. As if Edward and Alphonse had not yet suffered enough, the world (Truth) seemed to take great, sadistic joy in throwing more problems at them just after they fixed their bodies, by giving them problems with their bodies.

Suddenly, Mustang wondered if the Truth just really enjoyed the concept of irony and decided somewhere along the line that anyone stupid enough to cross paths with it would get a truck load of it in the form of missing body parts or senses.

Either way, it seemed quite unfair for the Elrics. Where was the Equivalent Exchange in all of this?

Alphonse lost his body. Edward lost a leg, his brother for a few minutes, and an arm. Then, Edward spent the next year (from what he heard from Alphonse) coughing up blood as he rushed through automail rehabilitations before promptly joining the military at the age of twelve. Then after everything, all the injuries, all the plots, the Homunculi, defeating Father, the Elrics finally get their bodies back, but now they have to deal with their bodies suddenly getting injured for no reason whatsoever?

"Colonel Mustang?" A voice cut Mustang from his thoughts, a voice that he recognised.

"Doctor Knox?" He sat up straight, mildly surprised to hear from the older man. He was, after all, quite certain that Knox disliked him. Had he gone to the wrong hospital room? "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you were in the hospital. Did you get hurt or something?"

"I lost my eyesight." Mustang said, a hint of bitterness in his voice as he reached up to touch his eyes, eyes that were still there but without the ability to see. Nothing more than dead weight. The shock Knox felt was palpable to him, even across the room. "The toll from the person who had a vision for this country... it's funny. Even if I sacrificed my Gate, I'd be trapped on the other side. And I have nothing to give, so my eyes are trapped on the other side for good."

"Then how are you going to rise up?! Soldiers who lose their eyesight are discharged. There's no way you can-!"

"I'm going to let Grumman become Fuhrer," Mustang said, although the knowledge that he'd have to give up on most of his ambitions was utterly killing him on the inside. "There's still much that I can do even without my eyesight."

There was a pause, a moment of silence as though Knox was contemplating something that was unknown to Mustang before he spoke again. "Hm. You know, I bumped into a rather interesting fellow on the way here?"

"Oh?"

"Do you know a Doctor Marcoh?"

0o0

"Brother, I don't think we'll find anything here." Alphonse sighed as he placed another finished book onto a slowly growing stack that was beginning to threaten their safety with how precariously it was stacked. At this rate, it seemed unlikely that whatever it was that was inflicting those injuries on them was going to kill them before the books did. "I know we've been to Central Library before, but I'm also very sure we went through this section ages ago."

"Yes, but we were looking for ways to get our bodies back. We weren't looking for possible explanations for the way our bodies are acting now." Edward retorted as he placed another book onto the pile that teetered dangerously for a moment before stabilising. He winced as he stretched out his arm, the bandaged burn on his shoulder twinging painfully. "Damn it, what the hell even causes injuries to randomly appear with no source? It doesn't make sense! What did that bastard Truth take?!"

"Are we reliving injuries?" Alphonse asked, as he picked up another book from the shelf, looking at the title as he considered whether or not it had any relevance to their research. What on earth was a history book doing in the middle of the medical section? "Wait, is that even possible?"

"If you can somehow reverse the process of injuries healing, theoretically, it might be possible. Like healing Alkahestry, but reversing that." Edward said, before he sighed and picked out another book, grimacing as he got a cloud of dust to the face. "I'm assuming that the body remembers where the injuries were through scars, but that's the thing. When I was talking to the Colonel, the wound that appeared on my shoulder was a second degree burn. I've never gotten burned there before, unless you count the first degree ones I got during that one certification."

"Could it be random?" Alphonse suggested, although it was a rather half-heartedly. His theory just did not add up.

"That does not make sense. Where's the equivalence in that?" Edward deadpanned, before he started sneezing. "Does no one dust these?!"

"We might be the first in years to touch these." The youngest Elric said rather flatly, staring at the now dust-free book his brother was holding. "I think you blew away most of the dust on these books with your sneeze. If being an Alchemist doesn't work out (unlikely as it is), you'll have an exciting career as a cleaner."

"Shuddup, Al." Edward groaned, rubbing his stuffy nose as he leaned to the side to put the book aside, his sleeve brushing against the dangerously stacked books that wobbled for a moment before gravity won out. Within an instant, forty two medical books and twenty nine medical alchemy texts did what the Homunculus could not and defeated the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother.

"Ouch! Brother!"

"Fu-!"

"Language!"

"I'm obligated to swear here, Al!"

After digging themselves out of the books they got buried under, Edward nursed the growing bump on his forehead as his brother sat on the ground, winded. Apparently, just the simple action of digging himself out from under the books was enough to tire him out. Spending years in the Gate did nothing to help with his stamina too.

"You okay?" Edward asked, concerned as he held his head.

"Just a little... winded." Alphonse chuckled, very much amused in retrospect of the small accident they had. "Maybe a little bruised. Kind of reminded me of that time you knocked all the books off dad's shelf."

"Excuse me, but I'm quite sure it was you that knocked them off! They fell on me!" Edward huffed, although there was no heat behind his words. He did not react to the word 'dad', so that was a plus in Alphonse's mental list.

"No, you did! You bumped into the bookcase!" Alphonse threw back, playing along.

"After you shoved me into it!"

I tripped!"

"Ha! You admitted it! You started it!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"DID NOT!"

"DID TOO!"

"SHUT UP!" A librarian shouted from somewhere within the depths of the library, the shelves blocking the view to whomever it was that yelled at them.

A surprised Edward and Alphonse immediately quietened down, sharing a look with each other for a long moment before burst into peals laughter, doubling over to the point where both of them had to use the shelves as support, tears forming at the corner of their eyes from the sheer force of their laughter.

"I haven't laughed that hard in ages!" Edward said in-between giggles that made him sound even younger than he already was, clutching his sides that felt like they were about to burst.

"I guess who everything that's been going on, we haven't had much to laugh about, right brother?" Alphonse said as beamed widely, his chest shuddering with occasional bouts of giggles that threatened to escape him as he wiped away the tears beading at the corner of his eye.

"Right, right." Edward coughed, trying to stop laughing although the corner of his mouth would not stop twitching upwards before he sat back against the bookshelf. "Ah, I can't wait to fix whatever bullshit the Truth has thrown at us this time."

"Yep." Alphonse hummed as he absentmindedly played with the hem of his shirt, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and index finger. "At least now we don't have to worry about Winry beating your head with a wrench because you broke her automail since you don't have automail anymore..."

Edward sat up straight as though he had been struck by lightning. "Oh crap! Winry!"

"We didn't call her, did we?" Alphonse wondered, before mischievously adding, "I hope we didn't worry her and granny. We should head back to Resembool soon to visit. Then you can tell Winry how much you l-"

"I DON'T LOVE WINRY! SHE'S JUST A FRIEND!" The older Elric just about shrieked, his faced flushed an embarrassed red that almost matched his coat perfectly as Alphonse laughed, ducking under the book Edward chucked at him. Alphonse, that traitor.

"You said it, not me," Alphonse smiled sweetly, although it was quite clear to anyone who might have seen him that his smile was a lie. "I was going to say that you can tell Winry how much you love her apple pie. I know I'm going to."

"... Al, how could you betray your poor brother like this?" Edward slumped to the ground dramatically with a groan.

"Quite easily, actually." Alphonse said this accompanied by an innocent smile, playing along with his brother's antics. He was extremely used to, having spent the past fifteen years of his life with Edward. Besides, it was really funny.

"Ha, ha, very funny." Edward cut his dramatics short and sat up, rubbing the back of his head (noting that his head no longer hurt from the 'book to the head' incident), almost sheepishly. "Speaking of apple pie, I did promise you that we'd go and get Winry to make you some after you got your body back, right? I guess with everything that's been going on, it slipped our mind. We should get tickets back to Resembool soon."

"Yeah." Just then, as if on cue, a loud growl cut through the air. Edward's head snapped to the side to stare at Alphonse, who blushed, the tips of his ears turning red. He had honestly forgotten that he had to eat now that he was back in his body. Not that he was complaining, of course. He would take having to eat to stay alive rather than endure the cold existence as a suit of armour where he needed nothing to stay alive save keeping his blood seal safe. Being able to eat again, even though most of what he ate the past couple of days was just plain hospital food, was a blessing in itself.

"...Maybe we should take a break to get some food?" Alphonse meekly asked. "Then book tickets back to Resembool?"

"Sure." Edward grinned as he reached out to ruffle his brother's hair.

"Ed!" Alphonse batted the older Elric's hand away with a pout as his brother cackled, only stopping when the librarian shouted again, this time from the end of aisle.

"THIS IS A LIBRARY! IF YOU AREN"T GOING TO BE QUIET, GET OUT! AND THOSE BOOKS HAD BETTER BE IN PERFECT SHAPE OR ELSE!"

"OR ELSE WHAT?!" Edward threw back rather unwisely as Alphonse forehead met the palm of his hand with a resounding smack. Oh dear...

0o0

"...Or else she'll beat you over the head with an encyclopaedia and chase us out, apparently." Alphonse remarked rather forlornly, eyeing the new lump growing on Edward's forehead as he took a sip of the smoothie he ordered at the diner he and his brother had gone to after the librarian had rather unceremoniously kicked them out. Well, kicked Edward out. She was much nicer to Alphonse, was probably since he looked like he might fall over at any moment and because he needed crutches. That was one benefit of having such a weak body, even though the cons overrode the pros. "Brother, you really shouldn't pick fights you can't win."

"Oh, shut up." Edward grumbled into his sandwich, holding a glass of cold water the the bump on his forehead. "You're just happy you didn't get a book thrown at you."

"Yep. And you just don't want to admit that an old lady kicked your butt." Alphonse said shamelessly as he finished off the rest of his chips, sitting back with a satisfied smile. Huh, the diner really did serve some nice chips... A while ago, he and Edward had actually stopped by this diner when Alphonse was still a suit of armour, and their chips had gone onto his list of 'things he wanted to eat when he got his body back'. "That was so good! I can't wait to go through my list of things to eat! I have so much catching up to do!"

Edward's eyes widened just a fraction for a moment as he paused in his eating, before returning to normal, a soft smile creeping onto his face as he watched Alphonse cross out an item in his notebook. "Yeah, I guess you do."

"Hm?" Alphonse looked up at Edward quizzically. "Did you say something?"

"Yeah," The older Elric grinned as he finished off his sandwich and stood up with a stretch. "We should hurry back to Resembool and get some of WInry's apple pie. She said she'd have one ready for us when we get back."

The beaming smile that lit up on Alphonse's was something that Edward had sorely missed from their childhood, before the youngest Elric paused for a moment. "But Ed, shouldn't we look for dad to tell him where we'll be? He did mention seeing us later..."

Instantly, the happiness on Edward's face soured like he had swallowed a lemon, his expression like it usually was whenever the topic of their father came up. So much for maturing, Alphonse thought drily to himself. It would appear that whatever tolerance Edward had shown a couple of nights prior to the current conversation was only due to the haziness that came with a sleep deprived mind. Alphonse was not quite sure if it meant that Edward secretly cared for their father under his tough exterior, or if it meant the only time Edward would accept their father was if he was sleep deprived or concussed. He supposed he could add 'high off painkillers' since they did produce a similar effect...

... He really hoped it was the former.

"That bastard can deal with it," Edward scowled petulantly, arms crossed over his chest as he turned his head to the side and closed his eyes to avoid the puppy eyes he knew Alphonse would try to use on him. They worked as a suit of armour, and Edward really did not want to receive the full brunt of it when Alphonse was a human because he knew he would cave. "He didn't tell us where he was going when he left, so he can expect the same from us."

"But brother," Alphonse protested, "That's mean."

"I don't care." Edward huffed, eyes still screwed shut. If Alphonse noticed that his brother was doing an excellent job at unknowingly mimicking a certain Xingese prince's squinty eyed look, he did not mention it. "As far as I'm concerned, the less I have to see him, the better. At least in Resembool, there's absolutely no chance of me running into him."

0o0

"I think you jinxed yourself, brother." Alphonse lightly said as Edward stared blankly at their father who was sitting at the Rockbell's kitchen table with granny Pinako, a glass of whiskey in one hand while the other hand was lifted up awkwardly in greeting. They had a rather uneventful trip back to Resembool, unlike several other instances where they had to deal with train jackers and terrorists. Really, at some point they would have to learn that jacking a train with the Fullmetal Alchemist on board was an inherently bad idea, but at least this trip was calm save for some kid screaming his head off and throwing a huge tantrum some seats down.

Once they had reached Resembool station, they did suddenly become very much aware of how long a distance they had to walk to reach the Rockbell household, a feat that would prove quite difficult given that Edward could barely walk without limping, and Alphonse was atrophied to the point where walking slowly for even five minutes was enough to tire him out.

At least the slow pace gave them the chance to admire the surroundings that they had grown up seeing to the point of it becoming monotonous.

When they finally, _finally_ , returned to the Rockbell house, Den almost bowled Alphonse over after leaping at him. For a moment, Edward was mildly concerned about Alphonse's well being and whether or not being tackled by a dog would prove counterproductive to his health before he shrugged it off, seeing Alphonse's happy laughter. He also had a chance to relish in the fact that it wasn't him being tackled as dogs usually liked to target him first.

Winry emerged from the house soon after, likely having heard Alphonse's gleeful exclamations and Den's barking, and the moment she saw the two of them whole for the first time since they were children, tears welling up in her blue eyes as she took a running leap towards them, tackling them in a strong hug that knocked them over.

"Welcome home, dummies," She had said in-between her joyful tears.

Edward was in high spirits as he and Alphonse greeted granny Pinako. Winry had already gone in to prepare an apple pie for them and since she had already been in the house beforehand, Edward could not help but feel mildly betrayed that she had not mentioned a certain someone being there already.

That was just not fair.

"Hello Edward, Alphonse." Hohenheim waved his hand rather sheepishly as he set his glass down. "I see that you two have gotten better?"

"Yes, we have." Alphonse said politely, elbowing his brother as Edward mumbled something about feeling much better if he did not have to see Hohenheim's face. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." There was a long pause, neither Hohenheim or his sons knowing what to say to each other. What could they say? All of their previous interactions had been mostly limited to talking about backstories and the Homunculus's plan to sacrifice everyone in the country. Besides, Hohenheim was bad at social interaction (being a Philosopher's stone made it worse somehow), Edward did not want to talk to him, and Alphonse was really the only one helping.

The silence dragged out for a bit longer before it was broken by the sound of Pinako's pipe hitting the ashtray with a sharp crack as she sighed. "Well, you boys can continue staring at each other. I best get dinner started."

"I'll help," Edward piped up, eager to get away from the situation (and his father), following after Pinako but not before shooting Hohenheim a look and disappearing into the kitchen, leaving Alphonse and Hohenheim alone.

"...I'm not very good at this, am I?" Hohenheim stated rather sadly, drooping slightly.

"It... it could be worse." Alphonse said with a strained smile. He really did wish his brother was on better terms with their father, since things got awkward really fast. "He's not yelling, and he's not vehemently denying that you're our father."

"I think I've gone from being 'a bastard' to 'a bastard who's my father' in his mind." Hohenheim chuckled with a shake of his head. "I do deserve it, though. How are you? You look much better than when I last saw you."

Something warmed in Alphonse to hear some concern from the father he had only recently begun to know, but the warmth he felt was overshadowed by his growing worries that had begun to accumulate since the last time they had spoken to each other in the hospital room. How could he even begin to explain to his father the strange things that had been happening to him and his brother? Then, a thought occured to him. His father had been travelling for such a long time, accumulating vast amounts of knowledge in all his years of living, surely he'd have heard of something, anything, that could help them.

"Actually..." Alphonse began, hesitating as he tried to think of a way to explain the situation to Hohenheim without sounding to absurd (but then again, he highly doubted that anything would really surprise their father), eliciting a raised eyebrow from the older man. "There's something... wrong with our bodies. It happened after the last time we talked. Ed thinks it might have something to do with the Truth."

Instantly, any and all traces of uncertainty and awkwardness vanished from Hohenheim's weary face, sitting up straight as he listened with rapt attention, eyes narrowed and sharp as he asked, "What's wrong?"

Alphonse fidgeted uncomfortably under Hohenheim's worried gaze. "W-well, it's just that-"

From the kitchen, the sound of Edward hissing in pain, followed by the crash of what could have possibly been a plate smashing against the floor after being dropped, interrupted Alphonse. His head immediately snapped towards the kitchen, where Edward was busy cursing up a storm in a strained voice. Alphonse recognised it as the very same one Edward would use whenever he was stuck in the hospital after being severely injured, assuming that he was not either unconscious or loopy from painkillers.

"Brother?!" Alphonse called out, brows scrunching together in concern as he made his way over to the kitchen, conversation forgotten. Hohenheim followed closely behind, he too worried for his eldest son's wellbeing.

From where he stood in the entrance to the kitchen, Alphonse could see his brother hunched over with a hand pressed firmly against his shoulder, gritting his teeth as he waited for the pain to fade away to the dull ache he had grown accustomed to after a burn had seared itself into his skin. Pinako stood next to him, carefully avoiding the shards of ceramic that lay smashed against the floor as she carefully coaxed Edward's hand from his shoulder to assess the problem at hand. Winry stood to the side, apple pie ingredients forgotten as she retrieved a medkit from the cupboard, lips twisted into a frown.

Hohenheim strode past Alphonse, brushing by him as he made a beeline towards Edward before stopping at his side and crouching down to his son's level. "Let me see."

"I don't... need your help, old man- ow!" Edward winced as Pinako finally got his hand away from the wound, the movement sending a sharp spike of pain down his arm. Alphonse, who had been hovering at the side, winced too. His brother usually never showed that he was in pain unless he really could not stand it. His threshold for pain were quite high too, which made this whole ordeal slightly worrying when you compare that Edward had lost an arm, a leg, and had undergone automail surgery, some of the most painful things a human could experience.

"Stop moving around, Ed," Pinako ordered as she unwound the soiled bandages.

The telltale redness of the burn marring Edward's shoulder now spread past the bandage even though Alphonse had seen that it had not before. Where there had been a burn the size of a closed fist, was now a burn the size of a hand.

Alphonse really hoped that it would end soon.

Hohenheim carefully assessed the burn as Pinako finished undressing it, before picturing an Alkahestric circle in his head as he held his hand over the burn with the intent to heal it. Red sparked at his fingertips, shocking Edward who up to this point was taking Pinako's advice of not moving until he flinched backwards in surprise and nearly fell over. It was only by Pinako's surprisingly quick reflexes that Edward did not fall flat on his face.

However, despite all the fuss, nothing changed. There was no seamless knitting of flesh putting itself back in its original state as medical Alkahestry would normally do. Hohenheim's eyebrows shot to his hair line in surprise, something which did not go unnoticed by Alphonse. He did still have to ask his father about it, even though he had been interrupted earlier...

"Alright, there's that." Pinako declared as soon as she had finished treating Edward's injury, making sure the bandage was properly tied before letting him go. "That'll hold, but you better not go off and get into a fight anytime soon, you hear? That'll tear any new tissue you've gotten back."

"Right... Thanks granny." Edward muttered, carefully testing the injury by moving his arm up and down. Some time during Alphonse's musings, the pain had finally subsided to the point where it'd only hurt if Edward moved his arm too much. It wasn't much, but it was an improvement. "But I think I'll be fine."

A thump to the side caught their attention, heads turning to see that Winry had put down the medkit on the kitchen table with a bit more force than necessary, her long bangs shadowing her face.

"Winry?" Edward called out tentatively.

"It's not going to be fine, is it?"

So caught off guard, he and Alphonse could only stare at their friend as she continued on, her back still facing them. "You two... ever since you've come back, you've been worried about something. I can see it, even if you're not saying anything. Even though you've got your bodies back... nothing's changed."

"Winry..." The Elrics stared at their childhood friend, wide eyed.

"Why can't you tell us?" Winry spun around, emotions, so many emotions, swirling in her big, blue eyes. She hated it, she really did. Her stupid, brave friends who tired to keep everything to themselves when they visited, going around with the notion that they can't burden her with their journey. It had always been like that, even when they were younger. "I'll always support the two of you, so tell me what's going on!"

Edward stared at her, before something in his expression softened. He always did have a weakness when it came to Winry. "... Okay."

Winry jerked in surprise, head snapping upwards to meet Edward's eyes, clearly expecting more of a fight from the stubborn Elric she had come to know and love.

"We'll tell you everything."

0o0

_When Alphonse turned to him, looked at him with big, pleading, golden eyes, asking for help, he didn't know what to say._

_What could he say, without crushing him and Edward? Tell them that they aren't who they think they are, that they aren't even **people**? To tell them that everything is a complete and utter **lie**?_

_Everything is wrong._

_He can't do that to them, even if it's their right to know._

_How could the Truth do this to them?_

_How cruel._

_But isn't he being cruel too in his own way?_

"I'm sorry."

_He truly is, but not for the reason they think._

_He'll help them through this to the best of his ability, but he can't tell them. He just can't._

_The words won't come._

_He is so, so sorry._

_So, very sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N The last part of this chapter did not want to be written, so I'm afraid the quality might be a bit lower than the rest of the chapter. After this chapter, there will be a time skip to a year later when Amestris is busy trying to build relations with other countries (except Drachma because they are still salty, and I don't see them jumping at the chance for more than a temporary ceasefire), and maybe the Nations will come in if I don't feel like being evil.
> 
> I've mostly given up at this point, and letting most of Hetalia's main cast come in. I'm undecided on Russia since Drachma seems like they'd have some connections to them.
> 
> I don't know how to write France, help.
> 
> I feel like I've overused my 'injure Ed and Al' card a bit too much, and it's just getting irritating at this point.
> 
> I can't wait to try writing Team Mustang because I love the interactions I read about in Fanfiction, although I feel like I'm gonna butcher them. Badly.
> 
> Hohenheim's not going to appear too much from this point on since I don't think Edward would want him following them around. He's probably going to stay in Resembool and do some more travelling. He's still a main character though, so he isn't going to disappear completely. He'll be back when all the major shit starts going down.
> 
> I might post the next chapter late because I'm working on some FMA stuff on Youtube.
> 
> Next time on Redux; Amestris builds relations with other countries, newly promoted Brigadier General Mustang and Team (plus Edward and Alphonse, but mostly Ed since he's the one in the military) gets assigned guard duty (thanks Grumman), Ling is entirely too happy to see his best friend again, and the ambassadors all have strange, eccentric people with them.
> 
> Huh, are they looking for someone?
> 
> Thank you.


End file.
